


Rite of Passage

by HedwigsTalons



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Birthday Traditions, First Flight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:14:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23684485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedwigsTalons/pseuds/HedwigsTalons
Summary: Birthdays are important.  When you are a Tracy 12th birthdays are especially important
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	Rite of Passage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TsarinaTorment](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TsarinaTorment/gifts), [Scribbles97](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribbles97/gifts).



> Written for IRrelief set by Gumnut over on Tumblr. TsarinaTorment wanted Scott teaching a younger brother how to fly. Scribbles97 wanted anything with Alan and Scott

“Up and at ‘em, birthday boy. These pancakes won’t last long if you don’t get down here quick.”

Grandma Tracy’s voice reverberated down the corridor to Alan’s room, stirring him in to action. At twelve years old he had lost the desire to be up at the crack of dawn and even his own birthday couldn’t entice him out of his room any earlier than was necessary. Although if pancakes were on offer that could only mean one thing – Virgil was cooking. 

The thought of Virgil’s thick and fluffy pancakes gave him the final push he needed otherwise he risked losing his share. He thundered down the stairs towards the kitchen and snagged a stack of pancakes from the pile in the middle of the table. The serving platter was loaded to overflowing and the jug of maple syrup was still full. Despite the threats no one else had started although Gordon was practically drooling from his place at the far side of the table.

All the Tracy boys appreciated good food. It could be in short supply on a rescue and in even shorter supply on the island if Grandma Tracy took it into her head to care for them with a good old fashioned dose of home cooking. Taking their cue from Alan the stack of pancakes was soon demolished. Blocks of butter were carved in to. Syrup dribbles were slurped off fingers. The feeding frenzy only finished when Virgil announced that there was no more batter left, much to the disappointment of everyone present. 

With his stomach finally full Alan was able to take a proper look around the table. For once all of his brothers were present, even John. Comms must have been routed through to the island to allow his space monitor sibling to attend. He appreciated the effort; having John around was a rare treat and he missed the sibling who had inspired his love of space. He just hoped the Earth stayed quiet for a few hours. It always hurt watching his brothers dash off in their craft to save the world. Since Gordon earned his full IR blues last year he was the only one left behind when a call for help came in.

There was still one noticeable gaping absence in the assembled company. The place at the head of the table was empty. No one yet had the heart to sit in the chair that had until recently been the preserve of their father. This was Alan’s first birthday since the Zero-X exploded. His first birthday without his father. The thought made the pancakes sit heavily in his stomach, as though they had been made of cardboard. 

All joy seemed to leach out of the day. 

Birthdays were meant to be special. Twelfth birthdays even more so. Turning twelve allowed a Tracy to obtain the freedom of the skies. That magical rite of passage that was the first time being in control of an aircraft. He was no stranger to flying as a passenger, all Tracys seemed to clock up air miles from birth, but to actually take control was a privilege that had so far been denied to him.

It had all started with Scott. Scott, who would bleed aviation fuel if you cut him and had been obsessed with the skies from the moment he had first been placed on a blanket outside as a baby to watch the clouds go by. Scott, who had been asking to fly since he could talk. Other boys might ask for bicycles for their birthday, Scott asked for aeroplanes. And when Scott turned twelve he had been deemed mature enough, and tall enough, to move into the pilot’s seat. 

It was a milestone that had carried on with each brother in turn.

It was a milestone that Alan was to be denied. There was no father around to take him up and hand over control.

The celebration moved through to the lounge where a stack of presents were arranged on one of the sofas. Books, video games and new clothes all appeared from the brightly wrapped parcels. A box of snacks and candy from Gordon was quickly whisked away to his room to be hidden from thieving brothers. Even birthday candy wasn’t sacred if left in a communal area; exhausted brothers returning from the danger zone could demolish a pack of Oreos quicker than you could say ‘Thunderbirds are go!’.

Soon there were no more parcels left.

“So, Alan, any plans for your big day?” Scott asked.

With his attention taken up with reading the back of one of the video game boxes Alan completely missed the smirks that were exchanged between his brothers.

“Maybe play one of these. Anyone up for it?” He held up one of the boxes. A space rocket filled the cover and the tagline promised intergalactic adventures that were out of this world.

“Sorry. Maybe later. I’ve got some maintenance to do.”

The disappointment on Alan’s face was clear to all as Scott turned and headed off towards the hangers.

“Anyone?” He waved the box in a hopeful manner but the lounge was already clearing as everyone went off to their respective duties.

“Sorry, Al. I don’t really have time for games. Scott’s right, there is maintenance to do. If you come and give me a hand on Three I might get done in time for a game before I head back up to the office.”

Alan perked up at this prospect. Thunderbird Three was his favourite craft but one he was rarely allowed near. The mighty space rocket seemed to call out to him and he longed to one day feel her power. Every time she launched in to orbit Alan could be found drooling at the windows of the villa. It was a sight he never grew tired of. The thought of spending time with John was also not to be sneezed at. 

Alan willingly followed John to the elevators but instead of heading towards Thunderbird Three’s silo John started leading the way towards the private hanger. Alan trailed along behind. Maybe John needed to collect some tools or speak to one of the others first. They would get to the rocket soon enough and then Alan could lose himself in the mighty machine. If he was lucky John might even let him sit in the pilot’s seat.

As he entered the hangar Alan found himself blinking. Bright tropical sunshine spilled through the open door, exposing the view of the runway and the ocean beyond.

Once his eyes stopped watering and adjusted to the brightness Alan noticed his brothers and Grandma all gathered round. There, lined up to exit the hanger, was the small two-seater propeller plane that rarely saw the light of day. Probably not since Gordon had turned twelve.

“You didn’t think we would forget would you?” Scott stepped forwards, already kitted out in his blues and holding out one final parcel.

Alan stepped forwards to meet him and accepted the gift. He peeled off the paper almost reverentially, partly because of the significance of the gift and partly because he knew better than to leave litter in the hangar that could get sucked in to aircraft engines.

Hidden underneath the folds of paper was a familiar flash of blue. He shook out the material and held up the small flight suit. The stiff cotton was unblemished and still heavily creased in its newness. He rubbed his thumbs over the material as he held the suit by the shoulders. A patch badge on the breast proclaimed ‘A. TRACY’. 

It might not be the high-tech material of his brothers’ uniforms but it was his. A symbol of the next stage of his life. Each brother in turn had been gifted their first flight suit on turning twelve. The significance of the colour was not lost on him. For each of the others the flight suit had been in the traditional green used by the US Air Force. His was sky blue with patches of a slightly darker shade on the knees and elbows. This suit was proof that one day he would be accepted as a Thunderbird. Provided he could actually master flying.

He undid the velco down the front of the suit with a satisfying rip and stepped in. The legs and arms were a little long but it gave him some growing room. Scott knelt down in front of him and folded up the cuffs into a fetching pair of turnups while Alan rolled back the sleeves a couple of turns.

“Can’t have these catching on the controls.” Scott murmured and he stood up, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “You ready?”

Alan could only nod dumbly as Scott led him over the aircraft and helped him in. 

The aircraft was rather more basic than anything else in the Tracy fleet. Dual controlled with a simple stick and rudder pedals. It was the perfect trainer plane to learn the principals of flight. Of course it had had a few Tracy upgrades over the years. The instruments were now more in line with those found on the Thunderbirds and the comms unit was able to connect to the secure International Rescue frequencies. The technology was nothing new to Alan who had grown up with a lot of these features as standard but an outsider might have found the juxtaposition between high and low tech to be a touch strange.

“At least you are a bit taller than Gordon was” Scott said as he slotted himself into the second seat by Alan’s side, “Dad had to put him on a booster wedge.”

Alan smirked a little about this piece of ammunition. His next older brother made a big thing about Alan being the baby of the family. Next time Gordon teased about him having homework to do or not being allowed to swim without one of the others present Alan knew just what he would throw back in his fish brother’s face. 

Lost in his imaginings of being able to retaliate against Gordon Alan missed that Scott had stared speaking again. Information about pitch, roll and yaw; rudders, flaps and ailerons had passed him by.

“Earth to Alan.”

A hand was waved in front of his face, jerking him back to reality.

“Huh. What was that, Scotty?”

“Wake up, kid. This thing won’t learn to fly itself. I said the stick controls the flaps and ailerons” Scott gave the stick a waggle and Alan watched as sections on the wings and tail moved correspondingly, “and the pedals control the rudder”. Alan turned around and saw the rudder section in the tail swing left and right as the pedals at his feet shifted, mirroring the action caused by Scott manipulating his own pedals. “Now lets get this baby fired up. Just watch what I do for now. You can keep your hands and feet on the controls but make sure you don’t put any pressure on them, just touch them lightly so you can feel what I’m doing.”

Scott’s fingers flew deftly over the various switches in the cockpit. The engine stuttered in to life and the propeller began to turn until it was a near-invisible blur at the front of the plane. A few more switches that Alan recognised as belonging to the radio and they were ready to go.

“Trainerbird One requesting permission to take off”.

John’s hologram popped up in the cockpit showing that he had evidently headed back to the lounge to run comms.

“Trainerbird One you are cleared for take off.”

Alan felt the small aircraft vibrate as Scott increased the power and they slowly rolled forwards towards the hanger doors and the outside world. Soon they were moving at speed towards the end of the runway and Alan was suddenly struck by how short the strip was. Normally he was in the passenger section of one of the jets or they used VTOLs. The small training craft gave him an entirely new perspective of the world.

Scott really was a master of all things aeronautical and Alan barely felt them leave the ground despite the most basic component of the Tracy fleet providing little protection against the pull of forces. He kept a fingertip touch on the controls and felt the aircraft turn and dip to Scott’s commands. The ocean glittered below, blending with the crystal clear sky on the distant horizon.

Despite normally piloting the most advanced plane in the world Alan could tell that Scott was enjoying himself too. The small propeller plane was neither fast nor elegant but the primitive controls only served to deepen the connection between man and machine. Every action had a reaction which was fed back to the pilot via the controls. Every gust of wind was felt and needed to be responded to. Pilot and craft needed to work in harmony rather than one assuming control of the other.

“You ok there Alan? Feel ready to take control for a bit?” 

Alan looked across at his eldest brother, his eyes shining.

“Really?”

“Sure. Just avoid hitting the island and you’ll be fine. You have control.”

“I have control” Alan responded, parroting the interaction between pilot and co-pilot that he had witnessed so many times previously.

And then he did. Scott’s hands were no longer on the stick but were instead placed neatly in his lap. Alan had no doubt that those same hands would be back on the controls in an instant if anything went wrong but for now the sky was his own.

After a couple of minutes of level flying, circling around the island, Scott looked across at his youngest brother. He could tell that Alan was just itching to try something a little more adventurous. 

“Go on, put her through her paces. I’m here if anything goes wrong.”

Alan needed no second bidding. Soon the small plane was dipping and turning. First moving with the wind, then against, as he got a feel for the craft and her abilities. The freedom of the skies was his and he could see why his brothers soon got miserable if they were grounded. Even Gordon, whose natural habitat was in the ocean, was not immune to the lure of the skies and griped if he couldn’t get airborne. His heart soared as he felt the shifting air currents and the pull of the forces as he coaxed the plane through progressively more ambitious and demanding manoeuvres.

All too soon it was time for lesson one to come to an end as Scott took control again with Alan gently feeling the movements required for landing. The short runway rushed up as Scott took the steep approach angle necessitated by their island home. A subtle bump and bounce announced their reconnection with the ground.

Once the craft was still Scott reached out and draped an arm around his brother’s shoulders. In the confined space of the cockpit they had been practically touching for the whole flight and it took no effort at all to turn it in to some semblance of a hug.

“So what did you think, Al? Another lesson tomorrow if rescues allow? You did great up there.”

Alan nodded against his brother’s shoulder, not trusting his voice as an unexpected wave of emotion washed over him.

Scott sensed the younger boy stiffen against him. He looked down and spotted the moisture welling up in Alan’s eyes, the clenched jaw showed just how hard Alan was fighting to stay in control.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Did...did I really do ok?”

“Yeah. I’m proud of you. Dad would have been proud too.”

And that was the tipping point. Alan twisted in the confined space and Scott found himself wrapped in a tight embrace as Alan fully buried his face in the shoulder of Scott’s uniform, sobs wracking his body. Scott rubbed a hand gently up and down the back of Alan’s flight suit, letting Alan have his moment and burn out in his own time.

Soon the moment had passed. With one final sniff Alan pulled himself out of the embrace and suddenly became very interested in the wall of the hanger visible through the side windows of the cockpit. 

“I mean it Alan.” Scott spoke to the back of Alan’s head. “Dad would be so proud of you today. I know it’s not the same for you but it was an honour to take you up today. You’re a natural up there.”

Alan turned back to face him, a grin splitting his face.

“So, next time you’re going to take me up in Thunderbird One?”

“Nice try, kid. Nice try.”


End file.
